Mango-Days

Every summer comes with a variety of fruits, mango being the favorite , often celebrated as the "King of all fruits". When I go home on weekends, my mother brings in lots of mangoes for her beloved son. This may sound like a small kid, but when it comes to fruits, I prefer being called as bachha. This Sunday when we were eating Aam-Ras, we had a discussion about the good old days we spent in my small village with my grandparents.

My forefathers ( starting from my grandfather ) lived in a very small village called Rajuri ( Jamked Taluka, Nagar District). Even today, we have our land there and it's cultivated and nourished by my father with help of a local person (called as sarakati in Marathi). These days we hear enormous prices of mangoes, 300-400 Rs. per dozen if you are going for Alphonso and similar ranges if you go for other brands. My great grandfather planted around 50+ mango trees before 150+ years and we used to enjoy the fruits of his efforts lately. I vividly remember those days when we had summer vacations. Myself with my brother and cousins used to go to the farm where mangoes are taken off the trees. We used to sleep in the deepest shadows of great trees and eat paad ( state of kairi, when it is about to be called as a mango ). We used to help those people in whatever they do, bring back the unripe mangoes home on a bail-gaadi , arrange them in a linear fashion called as Aadhi. As the days passed, the unripe fruits get really sweet and juicy. My uncles and their families, other relatives and few guests loved to eat home made Aam-Ras from our farm. My Aajoba ( grandfather) used to offer us a Paan after a heavy lunch, we often played carom / cards together those days. At night, he used to tell us stories ( even when I was in 10th or 11th std.) which were always new; without a single repetition and I used to sleep listening to them.

But they say, time changes and so do things. Our old trees no more bear any fruits. They are too old to stand in a hot Sun and these days we have a great water crisis. My grandpa and grandma both passed away recently and nobody lives in the wada, which was once considered as nothing less than heavens. Today when I add milk in Aam-Ras, I feel very bad ( we didn't do it in those days, neither did we add extra sugar), also I don't like crushing the mango pulp in mixer. And when I hear such high prices, sometimes I feel proud of myself that I have seen those Mango - Days.

P.S.
Being a problem solver by nature, I proposed to plant few new breeds of mangoes so that we could see those days again but the water crunch is a major hurdle. Also, trees in their initial days need great care and being a so called "professional" deeply engaged in materialistic, urban and suave lives, I could not go to my village and do it myself. My father is aging and can't push this extra burden on his shoulders. In all, I am not sure if I can see those sweet mango-days again ...